


The Problem With Porgs

by JenTheSweetie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen, M/M, post-TLJ fluff, unabashed celebration of porgs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 08:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13737429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenTheSweetie/pseuds/JenTheSweetie
Summary: “I’m sorry, the Millennium Falcon is infested withwhat?”





	The Problem With Porgs

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by [this](https://only-bottom-kylo-ben.tumblr.com/post/164410196051/porg-dameron-believe-it-or-not-but-i-can-fly) drawing, which I highly recommend you take a look at before reading, and which I stumbled across late one night. Thanks to [the artist](https://only-bottom-kylo-ben.tumblr.com/) for giving me permission to share it!

“I’m sorry, theMillennium Falcon is infested with _what_?” Poe said.

“Porgs,” Rey said.  “They were all over the island where Master Luke was living.”

“And they’re here why?”

“Ask Chewie,” Rey said.  “I think he has a soft spot for them.”

The spot he had for them couldn’t have been _that_  soft, Poe thought, watching Chewbacca shove a porg off the pilot’s seat. 

“We have to get rid of them,” Poe said.

“Why?” Finn said.  He was peering at a porg that had insinuated itself into a ledge in the bulkhead.  “They’re cute!”

“They’re rodents,” Poe said.

“I dunno, man,” Finn said.  He reached out a finger and poked the porg just under its weird little mouth.  “I kinda like them.”

-

It was, Poe would later reflect, a harbinger of things to come.

-

“No,” Poe said.

“Why not,” Finn challenged.

“We don’t have room,” Poe said.

“They don’t take up much space,” Finn said.  “And they can all live with me.”

“We don’t need any more mouths to feed.”

“They’ll feed themselves,” Finne said.  “Or I’ll feed them out of my rations, they don’t eat much anyway.”

“They certainly shit plenty considering how little they eat,” Rey muttered.

“Exactly,” Poe said.  “Will you listen to Rey?  Rey’s smart.”

“They don’t like living in the Falcon!” Finn insisted.  “It makes them nervous.  Now that they’ll have space to fly, you’ll barely notice them.”

“I will definitely notice them,” Rey contributed.

“What did the general say?” Finn said.

“I didn’t ask the general about the porgs,” Poe said.  “The general is focusing on stuff like ‘recruiting new members of the Resistance’ and ‘not getting killed.’”

“So this is _your_  decision,” Finn said accusingly.

“Yes!” Poe said.  “It is my decision, and I say the porgs aren’t coming!”

“Why don’t you like them?” Finn said.

“Because!” Poe said.  “They’re - they’re - _weird_.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t bring the porgs into the new base because they’re _weird_?” Finn said.  He lifted up the crate that he had packed all the porgs into.  “They’re _living creatures_ , Poe.  I thought you said we didn’t turn anyone away.”

And with that, Finn turned on his heel and walked into the new base, the crate of porgs hugged to his chest.

“We don’t turn away anyone who doesn’t shit on my pillow!” Poe yelled after him.

-

The next morning there was a porg in Poe’s bowl of rations.

“I can keep eating, you know,” he said, holding his spoon up threateningly.  

Finn reached out and slid the bowl across the table until it was far away from Poe.  “Don’t listen to the grumpy old man,” he said.  “I won’t let him eat you.”

“How did this end with me not getting any breakfast?” Poe said.

-

BB-8 was a loyal, dutiful droid, which was why Poe was not remotely surprised when he got into a fight with a porg.

“Your droid zapped Larry!” Finn said, shoving a porg into Poe’s face.

“I’m sorry, _Larry_?” Poe said.  “You’re giving them names now?”

“Of course I’m giving them names, and this one’s Larry and look what BB-8 did to him!”

The porg looked up at Poe mournfully.  One of his wings was smoking a little bit.

“BB-8,” Poe said, “why did you zap the bird?”

BB-8 chirruped indignantly.

“He was trying to ride on you?” Poe said.  “In that case, I think a zap was _extremely_  appropriate.  As a matter of fact I’d say the porg got off easy.”

“Larry was just exploring,” Finn said.

“Larry is a menace,” Poe said.  

“BB-8 is a menace!” Finn said.

Poe and BB-8 gave Finn identical looks of horror.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Finn said, “I have an injured porg to take care of.”

BB-8 bleeped at him.

“Agreed,” Poe said darkly.

-

There was something shiny in the corner of the command center.

“What’s that?” Poe said.  

“What’s what?” Rey said.

“In the corner, on the rafter,” Poe said.  “There’s something sparkling up there.”

“I don’t see anything,” Finn said.  

But Poe was already pushing over a chair and standing on it and peering into - 

“Yeah, it’s a porg nest,” Poe said.  

Rey groaned.  “They’re making _more_  of them?” 

“Don’t disturb it!” Finn said, running over.  

“This is gross,” Poe said.  “It’s like leaves and string and dirt and I _think_  this is some of Chewbacca’s fur - ”

Across the room, Chewbacca made a distressed sound and patted his chest down frantically.

“ - and, _yup_ , this is definitely the general’s necklace,” Poe said, extracting the glimmering string of gems from the nest. 

“I was wondering where that wandered off to,” Leia said.

“Anyone want eggs for dinner?” Poe said.

“That’s not funny, Poe Dameron,” Finn said.

“It’s a _little_  funny,” Poe said.

-

The new firing range was small, but it was well-equipped and soundproof and totally secure - 

\- except, apparently, for the porg that was currently flying straight across Poe’s field of vision.

“Hold your fire!” he called out, holding up a fist.  “FINN!”

“Sorry!” Finn said, dropping his blaster and running into the range, reaching out his arms to try to grab the porg, which was squawking in front of the targets.  “Sorry, sorry, just a second - come here, Porg Dameron, it’s okay, come to papa - ”

“I’m sorry,” Poe said, while the new recruits did a terrible job hiding their laughter, “did you just call that thing - ”

“There we go,” Finn said quickly, clutching the porg to his chest and darting back out of the line of fire.  “All set, guys, go for it!”

“I should have let them shoot it,” Poe muttered.

“Your namesake?” Rey said, wiping tears from her eyes.  “You could never.”

-

“You have a problem,” General Organa said.

Poe glanced at her, then looked back at Finn, who was trudging slowly across the airstrip toward them, a line of porgs following behind him like babies following their mama.  “I know,” Poe said.  “They’re disruptive and disgusting and that _sound_  they make, it haunts my _dreams_.  I have to get rid of them.”

“Oh, no,” the general said.  “That’s definitely not the problem I was talking about.”

“What problem are _you_  talking about?” Poe said, frowning.

But Leia just smiled blandly.  “Good morning, Finn,” she called out.

“Morning, General,” Finn said nodding at her.  “Poe.”

“Hey,” Poe said, his mouth going a little dry.  He watched as Finn passed them by, coaxing his line of porgs on, until they all disappeared into the hangar.  

“ _That_  problem,” Leia said.

“Oh,” Poe said.  He felt his face heat up.  “Shit.”

“Indeed,” Leia said.

-

“All right,” Poe roared, banging on Finn’s door, “that is _it_ , that is the _last straw_ , they have _got to go!”_

__

The door swished open.  “What are you talking about?” Finn said.

“My jacket,” Poe said, “has been _abused_.”

He held up the jacket in question.  It was sporting an abstract new white design on the shoulder that definitely hadn’t been there the night before.

“Oh,” Finn said.  “I’m sure we can clean it.”

“No, what we can do is call an exterminator,” Poe said.  “I will not let those things have the run of this base another moment.  This is a _plague_!  A plague of porgs!”

Finn stepped forward to block the door to his bunk.  From inside, several porgs looked on.  “If you want to get to the porgs, you’re gonna have to go through me,” Finn said firmly, holding out his arms. 

“That,” Poe said, “is _not_  going to be a problem.”

He tried to dodge under Finn’s arm, but Finn was faster; he grabbed Poe around the waist, pushed him up against the wall, and pinned him there, his wrists held over his head and Finn’s forearm across his chest.  Finn leaned in close, his eyes fiery, his legs bracketing Poe’s.  

It was, to put it mildly, _ridiculously_  hot.

“Um,” Poe said, swallowing hard.  “Okay.  So.  It’s maybe going to be a little bit of a problem.”

“The porgs,” Finn said calmly, “aren’t going anywhere.”

And then he leaned in even closer and pressed his lips to Poe’s, just once, very gently.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Poe said weakly.

Finn smiled.  “Good,” he said, and leaned in again.

-

Poe woke up the next morning on a pillow that smelled faintly of porg.

He rolled over.  “Do you let them sleep in your _bed_?” he said.

Finn blinked sleepily at him.  “Larry gets night terrors sometimes.”

“Force help me,” Poe said.  


End file.
